The Waters That Drown Me, The Fires That Burn Me
by 0melting.snow0
Summary: There are things she is good at and things they are good at in the same way. They didn't really fit any stereotypes and Jane Rizzoli learned pretty early in her life to take the good things as they came.
1. Chapter 1

**The Waters That Drown Me, The Fires That Burn Me**

**Prolog**

There are things she is good at and things they are good at in the same way. They didn't really fit any stereotypes and Jane Rizzoli learned pretty early in her life to take the good things as they came.

She is leaning against the counter in her kitchen, reading Sartre's 'Le diable et le bon Dieu' while her grandma's gnocchi were boiling in the pot next to her.

Summer in June, comes in phases, heat-streaked light that peeks into windows and through doors, half-closed and open, and undecided at best.

Over the counter the first-aid kit sits and stays closed. Maura would be there any minute and it's the first time she allows herself to gaze down at her arm. At her terms the injury is minor but she knows the Doc is going to flip so she tries to lose herself in French literature and cold Latte.

When she hears the knock on the door she hides the book under her couch. There are things she's willingly hiding from her best friend. It's about closure and the fact that Maura would never accept that Jane made a decision all these years ago. In the end she could've had it all.

"What did you do?"

"Me? Nothing! This guy just…"

"I spoke with Korsak."

"You called…"

"It's not like you're going to tell me the truth anyway. So I have to contact my reliable sources."

"Reliable sources my ass… Come on, Mau…"

"Sit."

Jane huffs and sits down on her couch while Maura kneels down in front of her, carefully studying the lacerations and the dark purple haematoma. Her hands are warm and inviting. With her touch it's easy to forget the burning sensation as she applies some disinfectant.

"What happened?"

Maura's voice is soft and pleading.

"He tackled me. I fell. I kicked his ass."

"You're no superhero."

"Still working on that one…"

"Jane, I'm serious."

"So am I."

She isn't stupid. She knows she is hurting her but Maura just doesn't understand – as a cop – you just couldn't face your own mortality.

The summer is slicked down the curve of Maura's neck, stretching damply against her skin and spewing her fingers into a fumbles against Jane's wounds.

"I'm sorry."

It's almost as hard to admit but she's tired of running in circles. There's this floating line none of them is ready to cross. Some things aren't meant to be and others are way too important to risk complete destruction.

"I know…"

Half the moment has her hoping Maura will go, but she says nothing; acknowledgement is the beginning of the game, old habits die hard and in between guesses she's out of practice anyway… Jane knows that they told her about the newest undercover mission. She kind of volunteered because let's face it, Frost just doesn't look as good in spandex as she does.

Some underground fight club hid one of the girls with a crushed skull in one of the dumpsters near Cambridge University.

Maura doesn't meet her gaze because she's just not able to acknowledge the fact that this is her job and she might end up in a hospital all over again.

Jane's stupid – and she's not – if she doesn't acknowledge the distance between the two of them. Some days it's comfortable; some days it's not. Some days she can't make up her freaking mind. They've always been moving in between lines. It becomes a problem when she actually finds herself sitting and doing a psych evaluation instead of letting it rot underneath a plate of her grandmother's gnocchi.

"I know why you _think _you have to do this…", she starts.

It's disfiguring when she says it like that.

"Do you?"

The harshness in her voice is unintentional but she can't help herself because Maura just doesn't get it. Her fingers are trembling, while she grips her beer tighter than necessary. Her mouth opens and closes. Open. Close.

That gaze of hers is dangerous, Jane decides. She remains stoic and careful, but her smirk is mocking. An indication of her failure. If there's one thing Jane can do, it's to try and lie to Maura Isles. She wonders if she'll believe her. She wonders if she wouldn't.

"Frost and Korask are going to stay with me the whole time. You won't have to worry about finding my body in a dumpster."

"No I won't."

The statement sounds like a fact and Jane arches an eyebrow and wants to ask a question. But she knows – just knows – she won't like the answer. It's Maura's place to smirk.

"I'll join you."

"Oh no, you won't."

"I already spoke to the Lieutenant. It's settled."

The anger leaves a burning sensation in her stomach. It's a primal feeling and her fists are clenching to control the urge to yell at her. It's genuine. It's going to haunt her. There are words lingering in the air between them and Jane just doesn't know what to say.

It occurs to her, at some point, that maybe the two of them have no idea what to do with each other. She could venture into the realm of poeticism and fall into labels of unspoken love. But then there's the reality of them, a reality which still, to this day, submits into the land of empty, idealistic understanding.

"We have moments…"

It's stating the obvious and Maura doesn't know how to handle her bluntness. Her eyes grow wide and she kind of looks like a deer caught in headlights.

When she first met Maura Isles she forgot how to move. Hiding fear behind cockiness they'd quickly become some kind of twisted antidotes. In retrospect, she had begun looking for a reason to break it off, almost from the moment she had become important to her. She knew she'd break under the pressure of constant perfection she demanded in her life and in the end they were floating like planets in the sky. Always near each other but never touching at all. But even given the current circumstances with her – the word _impossible_ didn't seem to matter at all.

"We do…"

"I can't concentrate on my job when you're around."

"You shouldn't worry so much…"

Maura smiles and an almost frustrated groan escapes Jane's throat.

"_Ce sont les enfants sages, Madame, qui font le révolutionnaires le plus terribles…"_

"What?"

The confused stare is almost amusing but Jane says nothing while she stabs her gnocchi with her fork.

"We're not done talking about that."

"No, we're not."

TbC?

* It's the well-behaved _children, Madame,_ that make the most formidable _revolutionaries_.

A/N: I apologize for all grammar and spelling mistakes I might've made. :o Should I continue?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

It's been a week and they never got the chance to finish the talk but Jane knows her friend well enough to know that she won't change her mind. So here they are, trapped in a smelly old building where the mold is eating up the walls and the smell of sweat is almost unbearable.

Maura is sitting next to her, bandaging her hands, whispering silent advices in her ear.

"Kidneys… You have just to punch them very hard in their kidneys. The pain will be excruciating."

She knows that but is nodding anyway because her friend just needs to make sure that she's doing anything to help. The air is sick with tension and Frost is looking ridiculous in his wide baggy pants and the diamond earring. She wonders if it really belongs to him or if the department sponsored it.

"I'll be okay."

"Will you?"

Jane knows it's a promise she just isn't able to make because even though she is able to lie, she won't do it to her best friend.

"I try…"

There's this odd sense of honesty to her now.

Maura tried – a long time ago – to figure out her friend. She's supposed to be past all of that. The distance between them is growing since the shooting and sitting here with Jane reminds her too much of things that they used to have. In her mind it's all about loss. Jane knows but they never speak about it. Lately there are too many things they don't talk about.

Her hand rises and folds against her face. She presses her fingers too hard into the side of her forehead, stroking a distraction.

"Focus, okay? You're my doctor here…"

Maura opens her mouth but the response is stuck between messy thoughts and unsaid feelings. Her hand is lingering on Jane's knee and her friend is giving her the most reassuring smile she has ever seen. It's noisy around them and the opponent is showing off her abs in the ring. Before Jane is leaving Maura grabs her wrist. There's nothing shy about the gesture, her palm flat over Jane's and her gaze almost defiant as she stills. Her skin is hot, flushed from the heat in this crowded room. She's dizzy. She can't remember why. She's tired too.

Frost is busy dealing with some blonde bimbo and there's really nobody watching them. The kiss is short, more a lingering brush of lips against her cheek. Jane can smell Maura's perfume. Some mix between macadamia and shea butter. Her hair feels soft against her neck and it's hard not to lean into her and demand a real kiss.

There's a song in her head and she can almost see herself, stretching her hands and moving them against the piano.

_Variations and Fugue on the Theme by Händel._

She used to love Brahms when she was a kid.

Her hand still doesn't move and she wants it to move. She wants her to do something so she can react. It's panic, that's growing along her legs. It tightens and sways and most importantly it makes it impossible to stand her gaze.

Maura's gaze is heavy. There was a time she was predictable and now Jane's the one who doesn't understand what's going on. The way it plays out in her mind is almost cruel, she's focusing when she can't and doesn't know what to do. She's aware how her skin is starting to cool.

"You're an idiot."

Maura says it out loud and she barks what should be a laugh out; the sound is coarse, scuffling out as she pushes her weight against her frame that's hold him up.

"Jane, you have to go…"

Frost's voice is breaking the moment they're having and suddenly it's hard to move. The soft touch is disappearing and seconds later Jane finds herself in a cage fight with girl who's clearly over stressed.

The movements are fast and almost flawless so a broken cheekbone in minute five isn't surprising but there are still the kidneys and she has the girl lying on the ground a few minutes later. The crowd is loud. Angry men with red faces are spitting in her direction but she doesn't care because the punches the girl threw at her, are now taking a toll on her.

Jane's knuckles are bleeding and the broken bones leave a dull ache in her face. Maura is all over her within seconds and she says nothing while there are people carrying the unconscious girl out of the ring.

"You're angry," she guesses.

Her eyes meet Maura's. They're dark. Her gaze is unreadable.

"I am," she says slowly. Jane looks a little bit surprised, but she continues. "It's you… I get that – I guess. What do you want me to say? Yes, Jane. I'm pissed. It's always about you playing superhero and you never _think_ about the people who…"

She stops there but it doesn't take a genius to know where she was going with that.

Frost is uncomfortable next to them, stepping nervously from one foot on the other. He clearly doesn't want to be part of it, so Jane grabs Maura's hand. They're heading home. Debriefing can wait until tomorrow and she has a right to relax at least a few hours.

The car ride is silent and it's Maura who's breaking a few speeding limits. It's better to say nothing and Jane wonders why she hasn't seen it before. This kind of strange relationship she's having with her best friend. Between them there have always been more unsaid feelings than in any other senseless relationship she's been in before.

They stop in front of Maura's house. There's something that she shouldn't get in between, that she doesn't want to get in between. It's the wrong moment, but then again, it's never been right. She feels it shake and slide between them though and ignores it, watching as Maura moves forward, stepping out of the car. Jane tries to remind herself of what she already knows.

It's silent and not even Bass seems to move in between the walls of this building.

The kiss is a surprise. Jane really thought they were going to talk and in the end she's still bleeding. She stiffens, her shoulders tightening. She feels a smile or something like that from her best friend. Maura pulls back, watching her.

"What…"

There's a question and there's not. Her body is hurting and the warm embrace, Maura is promising is almost too much. Jane's breathless, defiant again. Her hand cups Maura's face. She really shouldn't do this. Her eyes are too dark as she leans forward. Now it's her initiating the kiss. She tastes like too much wine and strawberries. Flicking her tongue against her lips; it's Maura's turn to step back.

"This is wrong…," Jane starts.

"…on so many levels…"

Maura's palm cups her skin. They're kissing each other furiously, too selfishly and she can't think anymore. Maybe this is what Jane wanted. She doesn't know. She stopped caring. It's easier not to care, to be angry and stay angry. She's always been good in dealing with regrets.

TbC

A/N: Wow, you guys are amazing. Thank you for all the encouragement and the nice words. :) That was a great way to start my day. So you inspired me enough to keep on writing. Again, I apologize for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes.  
>Next chapter: more undercover and maybe more under cover? : )<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2**

It's like moving on clouds. Maybe that's the reason Jane is coming in late that day. Her body is aching from two weeks full of fist fights. She's angry at the others for not being able to break this damn case and so she has to watch Maura as she goes back and forth from the bed to the chair. It's worse today. There's the funeral of her aunt and the old relationship adages, with the middle of it all. This is not a good thing.

"I promise, I'll be back tonight."

Jane thinks the rambling is kind of cute but she doesn't dare to speak it out loud because she knows how worried Maura is. It's nothing she can help her with because these fights are dangerous and Maura just couldn't be fouled. Not by her anyway.

"Come here…"

They drift outside. Maura's fingers stumble over the buttons of her coat. Anyway… She comes to her – she always does. Jane's hands find their way to the doctor's waist. Her forehead is falling against her belly and she can feel Maura's fingers in her long hair. It's a comforting gesture and truth is, she doesn't want to let her go. There's this strange feeling that things won't end up as they hope they will.

"I'll miss you."

She just says it. It comes quietly. The things that they say and the things that they don't say. Some of it could be funny. But here she means as she say it, means it more than she has in a long time. It's frightening to feel this open, almost too vulnerable, with the wear of old memories on the brink of skipping out.

They haven't touched the L-word yet. Jane tries to remember the last time she said it to anybody but there are just dark clouds in her brain and maybe she's just losing her mind.

"I have to go."

"I know."

Maura leans down and the kiss is so much different from the ones before. Intense. Bone crushing. Desperate. It's minutes – seconds – and they're lying on the bed, heavily breathing. Jane doesn't want to let go neither wants Maura but life goes on and there are things they can't run from.

So Maura is just grabbing her purse and starts running. The black dress is hugging her curves almost perfectly and Jane knows that this evening, a funeral would be a better entertainment than what she would have to face. She remembers the last time they went on a date. Jokes – dinner – movies. Fragments, she thinks. Jane did well with fragments. She will never be able to forget the _desert._ There are little noises still lingering in the air of her bedroom.

As the door closes she gets ready, always eager for the next fight.

This time is different, though. The fight is long and the other woman looks like she's been doing this thing for a long time. Jane's body is fit and strong but there are just so many hits you can take.

BOOM – BOOM – BOOM!

It isn't about the angry bruises on her stomach or the swollen knee. It's the ugly crack of her wrist that has her falling down.

Her opponent's mouth twists just a little, as she chuckles. Jane doesn't know what to think. But the lines are blurring, instead, and she's facing the difference between what is work and what isn't again.

Frost's gaze is warm as he carries her out of the ring. Her fingers wrap around is arm, tightening only slightly into a squeeze. She reminds herself to tell him about Maura. He _likes _Maura. She hates that. Neither of them will know. It's her girlfriend's decision and she kind of loves her more than her pride. It makes her realize how screwed up things really are.

When she can't decide what to do she always thinks of Sartre. It's her hiding place and he has told her more than once what to do. In his universe, if a victory is told in detail, one can no longer distinguish it from defeat. It makes the screw-up bearable and nobody is going to accuse her of anything. In the end she is fighting for weeks without making any progress.

"Call the doc and tell her were we are…"

Frost says nothing as some things just fall into place.

The stop at the hospital is long and exhausting but finally she's all stitched up and bandaged. Maura is already waiting at her door and as she waves her goodbye to frost she's almost falling into Maura's arms. Nobody says a word until they're settled in the bedroom.

"Jane?"

The detective looks up and is confronted with frightened eyes and a trembling body.

"Losing you is not an option…"

She's almost smiling while Maura is curling down next to her. Her girlfriend is warm and the ache in her body is subsiding while Jane is staring out the window. Suddenly, she feels like she's being selfish.

"You look tired… Sleep."

Maura never wanted her to take this undercover operation and now Jane's feeling guilty for putting her in this kind of situation. A truth and a lie. She doesn't know how to explain it. It's a different kind of love and her girlfriends fingertips are playing _Claire de Lune_ on her belly. The soft touch is leaving a feeling of regret in her chest. Jane is slowly turning around, facing her and the elephant in the room.

"I'm sorry…"

The tears are surreal.

Jane kisses her. Love is always the better option.

Maura's breathless, defiant. Her hand rises and cups the detective's face. She shouldn't, but she is. Jane makes a deep sound against her mouth. It cracks and growls, the vibration licking back against her. She shivers and pulls forward, her hands framing her arms now.

"Don't you dare to die on me… Ever…"

The tears speak louder and Jane is at a loss of words anyway.

TbC

A/N: Thank you for reading and all the nice reviews. :) I'm still flattered. Hope you like this one. And just for the record. I'm still not sure where I'm going with this one. Advices are appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

Jane Rizzoli was no stranger to sin. In fact she broke her brothers arm when she was 11, though her parents still think it was an accident, Frankie and Tommy know she did it on purpose. She was a good catholic girl once, she thinks and remembers old Jazz song's and a road trip in June. It's been so easy to fall hard in love at the age of 21 and she still doesn't know what's changed.

Something has changed and she still doesn't know if it's her or her environment.

Maura's laughter is think, turning lightly against her ear. Her girlfriend is calm again, scooting forward as her fingers slip underneath her blouse. Sometimes it's surreal – sometimes it's not.

Forgetting is the release she was never due to have; she's long accepted the notion and the inclination that Maura can use. Sometimes it's so hard to put a finger on it that she feels like she's lost in some kind of limbo. Some place between being and not being.

There are words to be laid, said over countless pleas, and then to be buried with definitions and ends. Jane is tired, rounded and backing. Her body is ready to crumble, to crush and to burn and Maura's concern is almost too much bear. It's a fading sensation and she's afraid what will happen when she realizes that it's not worth the risk. They're starting early – these pangs of separation.

"Are you alright?"

Jane looks up and she wants to say no, wants to bury her head in the soft curls of the doctor's hair but weakness is something she just can't bear. So she shakes it off and seconds later she's pressing her lips against her girlfriend's cheek.

The touch is like an unspoken promise and Jane's body is aching while she's clinging on the other woman, trying to find some kind of resolution in this bone crushing hug.

"I should get ready…"

It's her way out, they both sense it.

Maura's mouth turns, objectifying the situation and the detective feels like hitting something too hard, a distraction for sensation. It's too clinical and they both know, it's coming soon, the feature where they completely drown themselves – they weren't supposed to get this overwhelmed, they weren't supposed to do a lot of things.

"How long do you want to play this kind of game? You didn't even come near this guy. Do you want them to crush your skull?"

Jane ignores the fact that she's too close again, the press of her palm against her shoulder too hard and there's still a slight tension rising to her neck.

"This is important."

The other woman quivers and trembles, like a leave in the hedge and they've come this close to their breaking point. It's never been about a lack of understanding. They can read each other better than the evidence on their crime scenes. It's something fundamental.

This, secretly, is what scares her; she's losing something too quickly and she doesn't understand how to stop it. She keeps trying to reassure herself with phrases like _end results_ and maybe she's dooming herself anyway – Maura keeps watching her for some reason, right?

"You are important."

Her hands are cool and soft against her cheeks, like a long lost promise and the feeling will linger there until the fight is over and the fresh cuts and bruises are taken care of.

It's time – they both know it – but right now Maura needs some kind of reassurance, a promise that everything is going to be alright even if it's a lie. So Jane's fingers are curling hard into her hips while she's pressing the doctor against the hard wooden door.

She licks her lips. They taste like the ridiculously expensive gloss Maura bought her a few weeks ago. Watermelon. It kind of always makes her want to kiss her girlfriend. Maybe that was the intension all along.

It's still a game, but she ignores the aptitude of that thought, leaning forward and kissing her. Jane's mouth runs softly over hers, as if it were to prove some old point, her tongue sliding against her tooth. Maura's hands don't move, but her knee presses harder against hers as she opens her mouth.

The detective doesn't want to give her the satisfaction and pulls away. Her messy hair spills and frames her face, the passing thought of a veiled intimacy rising quickly as she's watching the other woman.

"How about we leave town? Just for a weekend or so? Get our head of things. Relax on the beach, thinking about nothing other than ourselves."

It's deceitfulness because she doesn't know how to help herself.

Maura leans forward again, her knuckles brushing against the detective's thigh. It's open and she's not saying anything, preferring to unnerve her by openly watching her. The doctor's lips curl slightly, a tip of amusement stepping out. Jane says nothing then, covering her mouth with hers and kissing her harder.

They're long lost between lies but letting go has never been easy. So they keep on touching, keep on living.

"I've never seen Cabo."

The whole idea is crazy. They're stuck in their high profile jobs with barely enough time to eat three meals a day but the _what ifs _have always been part of their routine. So Jane is nodding against the doctor's mouth and it suddenly it feels more real to drown in her touches than throwing a punch in a cage fight.

Jane can see a movement in the corner of her eye. _God_, she thinks. Her exhaustion is already playing mind games. Either he's been there for a while or not there at all. She doesn't know how many times she can keep coming face to face with her own lack of grace. It's an admission and her admissions never easy come to terms with as they should.

So she says nothing and it seems like he's just going to disappear on her, like the ghost he's always been.

"This isn't a lie…"

"I promise…"

It's real and it's not and maybe that's all they need to know.

TbC

A/N: I'm really sorry for the delay. Work's a bitch but now I'm here. I really hope you like it.


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